Meet and Greet (and Disapprove)
by RavenclawGenius
Summary: Bechloe: Beca doesn't get it. She tries to understand. She really does. She meets Chloe's boyfriends – and her girlfriends – almost religiously at the two month mark, like a decent best friend should, and she even puts on her kindliest face and best behavior for it every. single. time. And they hate her. All of them just hate her.


Beca doesn't get it.

She tries to understand. She really does. She meets Chloe's boyfriends – and her girlfriends – almost religiously at the two month mark, like a decent best friend should, and she even puts on her kindliest face and best behavior for it every. goddamn. time.

And they hate her. All of them just _hate_ her.

And, okay, it's not really like Chloe's partners have exactly been stellar choices, but still, Beca doesn't get it. It's not that she wants them to like her – Beca doesn't actually _care_, except that it makes Chloe upset, and sometimes she has to end things just because her lover of the time doesn't want Beca spending time with her, so Beca feels ridiculously guilty – but, like… Beca tries to be_ nice_.

She doesn't do that. Not ever. If she chooses to be nice, it's because she wants to be; but she plays nice with them for Chloe's sake, and she doesn't understand why Chloe's partners are so reluctant to do the same.

Surely if _Beca_ is expected to put forth the effort, then they should, too, right?

* * *

"So you work as a DJ?"

Beca rolls her eyes, because, seriously, _why_ is that always the first question that Chloe's dates ask her when they meet?

"Yup," she replies, nodding and lowering her mouth to swipe a dripping line of butter pecan ice cream off of her pointer finger. "It pays the bills, so I guess I'm doing alright for myself," she adds.

It's not exactly defensive, but she definitely makes it a point to establish that she's actually damn good at her job whenever the credibility of her career is questioned.

"Becs makes these really awesome mixes that just- oh my God, you have to hear them sometime, Chase. They're amazing. _She's_ amazing," Chloe boasts proudly.

"Thanks, Chlo," Beca says, and shrugs awkwardly, fighting off a really embarrassing blush.

It's Chloe, and this always happens, so Beca should really be used to her best friend's compliments by now. But she isn't. She loves hearing when other people enjoy her music, but Chloe is always the first person she goes to for approval, even before her boss, and Beca's always the happiest when she manages to earn it.

"That's cool, I guess," Chase replies, nodding, but his brows are furrowed inward and he mostly just looks confused.

Beca's actually surprised that he doesn't ask her why someone would ever want to do something like that for a living, because he's _obviously_ thinking it, but Chloe burrows under his arm, snuggling her cheek against his chest, and he chuckles a little, instead. He offers Chloe some of his ice cream – Beca lifts her brows, because, hi, it's _chocolate_, and the one place that Chloe Beale will _not_ have her chocolate is infused with her ice cream – and Chloe politely shakes her head no.

Chase is actually a decent guy, Beca determines as they stroll idly around the park.

He's a little boring for Beca's tastes, and he doesn't always seem to understand Chloe's train of thought – Beca wants to tell him to just roll with it, because, really, Chloe doesn't _have_ a train of thought; she has _bubbles_ of thought, which occur sporadically and without any provocation at all, and the only way to endure a conversation with the redhead is just to keep up, usually – but he's a fairly decent, practical guy.

Beca doesn't say it aloud, but she's pretty sure this relationship won't last for another two months.

Practical isn't really Chloe's thing. She specializes in fantasy; in wayward dreams and fluffy shreds of hope that she'll mine the earth to find, if she has to, and practical doesn't really factor comfortably into any of that.

But, okay, Beca can see the appeal. Kind of. Chase is an alright-looking dude, and he has a steady job, fresh out of college, pushing papers in a cubicle at some accounting firm. And he looks at Chloe with stars in his unfortunately lackluster brown eyes, so, okay, even if it's not going to work out, Beca guesses he'll be okay spending time with Chloe for a little while longer.

When Beca realizes a few minutes into a discussion about Chase's home life – two brothers, but no sisters, and a mother, but an absent father – that her ice cream is almost finished, she dutifully hands it over to Chloe. The redhead vehemently claims that ice cream is just _'bleh,'_ to quote her precisely, until it's been devoured down to the cone.

Beca doesn't really like the cone part much, anyway, because her teeth are too sensitive to bite into the ice cream hiding at the bottom, so giving it to Chloe just seems like the right thing to do.

Chloe grins, and promptly captures a bite before smacking a damp, cold kiss across Beca's cheek.

Chase frowns, but Beca doesn't really care, because she's busy frowning, too.

"Gross," Beca huffs, wiping the remnants of the sticky substance off of her face with her sleeve. "Jesus, Chloe, I thought we talked about this! If you're going to do it, at least wipe your damn mouth first," she grumps.

"You love it," Chloe teases, nudging her hip softly against Beca's. "C'mon, the movie's gonna start soon!"

Beca rolls her eyes – because, _ugh_, of course she's being roped into meeting Chloe's boytoy _and_ going to see a movie in the same night – but she compliantly follows behind the eager redhead who bounds ahead of them several paces, and she advises Chase to do the same, lest they invoke the wrath of Beale.

When Chloe comes over the next day and asks what she thinks of Chase, Beca shrugs from the floor in front of her laptop on the coffee table and answers, "He seems nice enough."

"He's a sweetheart," Chloe agrees hesitantly. "I don't think he liked you, though."

"_What?_" Beca demands incredulously. "Dude, I tried so hard, Chloe! I thought it went fine!"

"I know, I know," Chloe soothes, sprawling out over the comfortable sofa in Beca's living room and offhandedly dropping her palm to Beca's shoulder, where she kneads her fingers a little. "I thought it went well, too, but…"

"But _what?_" Beca asks, groaning as Chloe's fingers locate a tight knot just under her neck and work at soothing it away.

"I don't know," Chloe sighs softly. "He says your career is unreliable and that it's foolish to invest your time and energy into something so childish."

"Well if he had something to say, he should've said it to my face," Beca huffs irately, then shakes her head and forces herself to calm down. "I'm sorry," she says mutedly, looking down at her lap. She knows Chloe's disappointed, so her wounded pride can park it in the back seat, for the moment. "I really did try, you know."

"I know you did, Becs," Chloe says sweetly. "You always do."

"I just don't get it," Beca supplies helplessly.

They've had this conversation several times before, so she knows that Chloe knows what she means.

"I don't get it, either," the redhead confesses tiredly. "I don't understand why they can't see how great you are. They seem to like Aubrey just fine."

And, okay, _ouch_. Like, Beca gets along with Aubrey alright now, and they'll occasionally grab coffee together or something, but Beca _has_ to be easier to get along with than uptight, stick-in the mud, Aubrey fucking Posen, right?

"Maybe I should put on my bitch face next time and see if it works out better for me," Beca sighs theatrically.

Chloe giggles, bumps a closed fist over Beca's much more relaxed shoulder, and asks if they can order a pizza. Beca obliges, and pulls up a fresh mix to show her friend while they wait.

Chase breaks up with Chloe seven weeks after that. The guy wanted her to go with him to some office party or something, and Beca had encouraged Chloe to go, but Chloe firmly refused, reminding Beca that she had promised the DJ to be there for her first all-night shift at the club.

Chloe doesn't break her promises, and evidently Chase doesn't understand why this is such an important night for Beca, anyway. Plus, he isn't exactly forgiving, since apparently he'd had a promotion lined up that Chloe had ruined for him.

Beca thinks he should probably have thought to ask if she'd had plans beforehand, but she doesn't say anything, and lets Chloe cry into a bottle of vodka for the rest of the night, after they get back from the club. The redhead falls asleep with her head pillowed against Beca's thighs sometime around six in the morning, so Beca carries Chloe to her bedroom and holds her so that she isn't alone when she wakes up.

Because Chloe _hates_ waking up alone when there are perfectly nice people in the house to cuddle with.

* * *

"So I hear you're a DJ," Mike offers casually, picking up his dinner menu and eyeing Beca with a wide smile. "That's awesome."

"Thanks," Beca laughs, pleased with the variation. "It's a pretty sweet gig."

"She loves it," Chloe grins. "And she's great at it, too."

"I'd love to hear some of your stuff," Mike nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, sure," Beca agrees easily. "I'll uh- I'll give Chloe something you can listen to."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Mike dismisses with a flippant wave of his hand. "She's got a bunch of your music lying around her apartment. I'm sure I can pick up a few of those USBs and snag the files onto my iPod."

"Nope," Chloe rejects, nudging him with her elbow. "Those are mine. They aren't finished yet."

"I'm sure they're great, Chloe," he smiles at her. "I just want to see if it's any good," he teases, winking at Beca.

Beca really likes this one. He's tall – which is sort of annoying for Beca, because even sitting down, she still feels like he's towering above her – but he has thick, black hair and hazel eyes, and if she looks for it, she can see his arm folding under Chloe's to hold her hand beneath the table, which is a good sign. Plus, he hasn't judged Beca on her life decisions so far, and he isn't doing anything stupid like insisting on being called _Michael_, so that makes him pretty okay, she guesses. And he works at an aquarium, so, dude, super Chloe-points earned on that one.

Beca laughs again and shakes her head. "Nah, man, she's right. Sometimes I give Chloe the rocky ones to see if she has any suggestions, but I'd be, like, super ashamed of myself if anyone else ever got a hold of them. A lot of them are _really_ rough."

"I gotcha. So only Chloe gets the privilege, huh?" Mike laughs congenially.

"Oh, yeah," Chloe nods, abruptly solemn as she pivots in the booth to face him. "It's kind of a thing, with Beca. I'm actually really honored that she trusts me with them."

"It's just music, Chloe," Mike chuckles, leaning over to catch the corner of Chloe's mouth with his own.

Oh.

Yeah, Beca takes it back. Music is never _just_; it's never just _anything_, actually, unless the words following are something along the lines of 'orgasmic' or 'soul-saving.'

What kind of douchebag can't appreciate music? And what kind of douchebag who can't appreciate music thinks that he actually has a shot at a lasting relationship with Chloe Beale, who loves the shit so much that she involved herself in a fucking _acapella_ group just to be sure that she never lost touch with the music between the stress of making friends and succeeding in college?

Yeah, no. This guy won't make it a month.

Beca is significantly less amicable toward Mike after that. She's never outright rude, for Chloe's sake, but she can practically feel her sarcasm gauge bumping up the heat, and the muscles in her face tense up until her jaw aches. And she stays that way until their meals arrive, when she can shovel the food into her mouth to keep from saying something she really, _really_ shouldn't.

But Beca can't exactly explain the significance of his lack of appreciation for music to Chloe, so when Chloe settles next to Beca on the redhead's bed, snuggling beneath the sheets while Beca prepares a playlist for her shift on Friday, and asks her what she thinks, Beca sighs and says, "He's alright, I guess."

"But, Becs!" Chloe whines. "You're not _allowed_ to not like him. He's perfect!"

Beca flashes an exasperated look in Chloe's direction, before she argues, "Firstly, I'm _allowed_ to dislike whomever I please. Secondly, I just- I'm not sure that he's right for you, that's all."

"Why?" Chloe frowns, looking small with the covers tucked beneath her chin and her bottom lip unconsciously jutting outward, just that smallest bit.

"He's just- I don't know, Chloe," Beca sighs, helpless against that particular pout. "Maybe I just got a bad read on him, or something. I'm sure it's nothing," she consoles. "We'll go out another night. It'll be fine. I was feeling a little off, so maybe that's it."

"Maybe," Chloe says, worrying the inside of her right cheek – an anxious habit that Chloe developed back in grad school. "You _were_ a little meaner than usual."

_Duh_, Beca thinks, quelling the immediate urge to roll her eyes.

"And how did my bitch face go over with Mike?" Beca inquires dryly.

Chloe sighs heavily, burrowing further beneath the blankets, and murmurs, "He's not exactly a fan."

"Of course not," Beca puffs, adding an exceptionally angry mix with hard bass lines and livid lyrics to her playlist. "I can't win."

"Becs," Chloe coos softly, "it's not your fault. It's just – "

"Well it has to be _something_ that I'm doing, Chloe," Beca frowns at her. "They seem to like Aubrey just fine, right?" She cites Chloe's words back at her, with some bitterness seeping into the sentiment.

"Don't be like that," Chloe says gently, breaking one arm free of her blanket-nest to rest her palm over Beca's, crawling over the track pad of her laptop.

Beca stills her fingers and sighs. "You're right, I guess," she says, even though she's not really sure that Chloe _is_. "Sorry. I'm in a funk."

"I figured," Chloe says quietly, tightening her hold on Beca's fingers and flipping onto her side to nuzzle her cheek against Beca's shoulder. "You've been queuing up some really dark mixes over there," she adds, nodding toward Beca's computer.

Beca's a little distracted by the heat in her shoulder, and she doesn't even know what to start thinking about that, because, actually, it feels really nice, but she nods.

"It'll pass."

It does pass, but not in time for Beca to make a better impression on _Mike_, because Chloe breaks up with him a month later. Beca tries not to think about how she totally predicted that happening, and she tries even harder not to feel smug about nailing the timeline down, too.

"Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect, huh?" Beca asks sympathetically, while Chloe pours them each a shot of vodka.

"He just… didn't care about anything," Chloe shrugs. "I mean, he wasn't apathetic, but he also wasn't- _passionate_ about anything. Is that silly?"

Beca shakes her head 'no,' because she gets it. But, really, that sort of gets down to the root of the problem, doesn't it? If the guy can't see the passion involved in making music, he probably can't relate to _owning_ that passion, either.

"Will you cuddle with me?" Chloe asks, smiling a little sadly at Beca.

"Sure, Chlo," Beca nods. "But it's weird that you're asking."

"If it makes you feel any better," Chloe retorts playfully, "I was going to full body-hug you, anyway, even if you said no."

Beca feigns a contemplative expression, before she nods, and asserts, "Yeah, I actually feel like Earth is back in orbit, now. Thanks."

Chloe laughs airily and curls into Beca's side, and they throw back their respective shots, drinking in Beca's bed until only a few swallows of the burning liquor are left untouched in the bottle, happily resting on Beca's nightstand.

"I still don't get why he never liked you," Chloe slurs, bumping her nose under Beca's chin. "You're the best. And you're my best friend, and you treat me like a princess. How could he not like you?"

"They never like me," Beca huffs, searching fruitlessly through the blankets for her discarded (and missing) shot glass. "I give up," she resigns, meaning that she is both giving up on trying to persuade Chloe's lovers to like her, and that she is done upturning her bed for a shot glass that clearly has no desire to be found.

"It's okay, Becs," Chloe sighs contentedly against the DJ's neck. "I love you."

Beca's drunken mind hiccups a little, and something about that doesn't quite seem right to Beca, but she ignores it. Chloe says she loves her all the time. She doesn't usually say it like _that_, with quite that level of softness and sincerity, but Chloe says it all the time, so it's not a big deal.

"I love you too, Chlo," Beca replies eventually, even though she thinks Chloe's snoring a little near her ear by the time she manages to voice it.

It doesn't matter, anyway, Beca thinks. She's pretty sure she meant that a little differently than she's used to, and she isn't really sure what to do with it, so it's actually a good thing that Chloe can't hear Beca echoing that softness and sincerity back at her.

* * *

"So," Alex says, taking a sip from the water bottle Beca offered her before she proceeds, "Chloe tells me you're gay."

_Dude_. This is so _not_ what Beca is used to at _all_, and she practically chokes on _air_ when the blonde across from her asks it, tipping her head casually but curiously to the side.

"Um… yeah?" Beca confirms, though it sounds shaky and more like a question than anything. "I mean, I'd ask if that's a problem for you, but, you know… _clearly_…" She trails off, gesturing toward Chloe across the table.

Chloe giggles, and Beca offers her friend a tremulous smile. She can't actually tell how this meeting is going, exactly, but that's fine, because Beca had thought she'd had a decent handle on all the other meetings, and not one of them had gone as well as Beca had presumed.

"Well, if you're interested, I have a few friends who – "

"_Oh my God_, no," Beca insists, but regroups quickly. "I mean, thanks. Really. But no."

"You have your eye on someone?" Alex teases, her grey eyes glittering with mischief that Beca decides is simultaneously intriguing and annoying.

"Uh… no," Beca shakes her head.

_Lie_. Beca knows it is, now. She does have her eye on someone, and has, ever since Chloe's break up with Mike six months ago. But Beca had tried her best to be respectful and give Chloe time to bounce back before she made a move, and by the time Beca felt that Chloe was ready for another relationship, Alex's name had already been making its way into their conversations for a month.

"No," Beca repeats. "I just- don't want to deal with that right now," she fabricates an excuse as best she can, scratching uncomfortably behind her ear.

Chloe frowns at her. "Becs, you've been single for, like, almost two years now."

Beca shrugs awkwardly.

Chloe isn't wrong. Beca hadn't thought much about it – at least not until recently, when she'd decided that she really enjoys cuddling with Chloe _way_ more than she should, and that, okay, she sort of judges Chloe's partners a little more harshly than most probably would, even if she's outwardly nice to them – but she hasn't slept with anyone in quite some time, and it's been even longer since she'd actually thought to _date_ someone.

Someone not her best friend, anyway.

"I told you," Beca lies through her teeth, "I'm just not interested, right now."

"C'mon, Chlo," Alex laughs, taking Chloe's palm in her hand and raising it to her lips to press a gentle kiss across Chloe's knuckles, "not everyone wants what we have, you know."

And, okay, isn't it a little early for Alex to be making comments about their relationship like it's actually going to _last_, anyway? Like, Beca knows things have been going well for the two of them, but, seriously, it's only been two months; it's not like anyone is wistfully pining after the kind of relationship that the two share, yet.

Sure, Beca's envious that Alex is with Chloe, but 'what they have' isn't actually all that special. Alex works as a secretary at Aubrey's law firm, so Chloe likes that she gets to see her other best friend and her girlfriend in one fell swoop – and, alright, so Alex and Aubrey are already friends, too, but –

Fuck, this isn't good.

Beca can't let her feelings for Chloe dictate how she feels about Alex, because Beca refuses to stubbornly dislike the blonde just because she _wants to_.

"Sorry, Becs," Chloe smiles apologetically. "I just want you to be happy."

_No one makes me feel as good as you do, Chlo_, Beca thinks reflexively, but sighs and shakes her head.

"It's fine, Chloe. We should probably get going. The concert starts in an hour," she suggests, and her guests follow her out of the apartment.

Chloe and Alex actually seem pretty solid, Beca thinks, and even though she hates it, she vows to be supportive of her best friend and the relationship she's found herself involved in.

So she smiles at Chloe, and keeps both of their drinks refilled all night, and when the redhead sings along to the lyrics, all but screaming them into Beca's ear, Beca can't help the goofy smile that stretches across her mouth as she sings back.

After the Cobra Starship concert, Alex laughs and shoos Chloe back to Beca's apartment for some gossip, thanking Beca for scoring the tickets and promising to hang out again soon. She pulls Chloe aside for a moment, chatting quietly so that Beca can't overhear, and she lowers a soft kiss over Chloe's cheek before they part.

Beca does her best not to watch.

Chloe texts the blonde the entire ride home, and Beca just tries really hard not to drive her car into a tree just to get Chloe's attention.

When they get back to Beca's apartment, Chloe's still texting, so Beca pours herself a healthy glass of whiskey, downs it, and pours another.

"You want anything?" She offers.

"What?" Chloe frowns, glancing up at Beca.

Beca expends a great deal of effort to _not_ roll her eyes, and asks again.

"Yeah, thanks," Chloe smiles a little, though something seems a bit off with it.

Beca nods and sets to making a margarita, moving to the kitchen once she has the ingredients collected from the liquor cabinet, and throwing them in the blender. She stoops over to fish out a lime from the refrigerator, and she hears Chloe sigh behind her.

"Becs," she calls softly.

"Yeah?" Beca asks, curving her neck over her shoulder long enough to determine that something isn't right with her friend, before she pops open the bottom drawer and triumphantly pulls out a lime. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing," Chloe backtracks, dropping into one of the barstools at the island counter.

"Chlo," Beca says, darting an incredulously chiding glance at the redhead while she draws a knife out of the block to slice the fruit in her palm, "something's wrong. I _know_ something's wrong, so why don't we skip the part where you act all reluctant to share, and I say, 'please, Chloe, just talk to me,' and, eventually – with no small amount of prodding on my part – you end up sharing, anyway."

"I just- I don't think things with Alex are going to work out," Chloe says, fiddling with her car keys against the granite surface of the countertop.

Beca keeps her face carefully neutral as she inquires, "Why not? She seemed really into you."

It's true. The blonde had spent all night asking Chloe if she was cold, or if she needed to use the restroom, or needed to take a break for air. It made Beca a little sick, because, okay, yeah, if she had to pick someone out for Chloe, Alex would probably be it – at least from what she'd seen tonight – but _she_ wants to be the someone for Chloe, so it kind of felt like a swift kick in the teeth.

Because, damn it, they've known each other for eight fucking years now, and of _course_ Beca's so emotionally crippled that she can't realize she's in love with her best friend until said best friend has fallen in love with someone else.

"I know she is," Chloe nods dejectedly. "But I just don't think I'm that into her," she admits quietly. "I was talking to her about it before we left, and…"

But, actually, wait. Chloe's _not_ in love, Beca realizes, blinking hard, and blanking on what Chloe's talking about behind her, her mind frozen on that particular facet of hopeful information.

"I think- I think I'm in love with someone else," Chloe confesses softly, and when Beca chances a glance over her left shoulder, Chloe's finally looked up from her keys, her cerulean eyes locking in on Beca's instead.

Beca feels her shoulders hunch, defeated.

"Please don't," she requests, her voice little more than a desperate whisper.

"Don't… what?" Chloe asks, frowning, so Beca picks up a slice of the lime, pulls down a margarita glass from the cabinet, and pours the frozen drink into it before plopping it in front of Chloe with a sigh, making sure to clip the lime around the edge of the glass.

"Look, I'm about to fuck up, here," Beca admits, combing her fingers through her hair. "And I know that my timing sucks, and that I'm such a fucking idiot for not realizing it sooner, but I've sort of figured out recently that I'm, like, ridiculously in love with you, and I know that's, like, the worst thing that I could possibly say to my best friend, and I'm not willing to lose you because of it, so I'm sure that I'll get over it, but please… For fuck's sake, Chloe, I just spent all night doing my best not to resent your girlfriend just for having the damn title, so please, just- just don't. Not tonight. I love you – as your friend, too – and I want to be supportive, but I don't think I can do any more of that supportive crap tonight without choking on my own vomit, and I don't want to be that way when you tell me you're in love, okay?"

"Um… wow," Chloe says, dropping her keys and taking a large gulp of her margarita. "So, funny thing, Becs; you actually just made my whole life, like, a thousand times easier right now, because your rambling has nothing on the babble I was about to rush out."

"I wasn't _rambling_," Beca scoffs, offended, and unable to voice how confused Chloe's statement just made her.

"Beca," Chloe laughs, though it's an octave or two higher than normal, "you _were_ rambling, and it was sweet, but that's not really even the point, because the point was that I- I mean, I was trying to- I was going to say that I'm in love with you, too," she fumbles, the words barely tripping off her lips before the next one surges out.

Beca laughs, then sobers immediately when Chloe's expression falls into something vulnerable, and scared. "Seriously?" Beca asks incredulously.

Chloe hesitates, then nods, and tries to jest, "So, how serious were you about being in love with me, Becs?"

"I mean, yeah," Beca breathes out, shaking her head to clear the fog, because _what is happening right now?_ But, okay, shit, this is, like, super important and she actually feels like her _life_ is hanging in the balance, even though that's dramatic and absurd and completely unlike her. "Yeah. I'm in love with you," she repeats earnestly. "I just- You're _Chloe_," she laughs awkwardly, rubbing behind her ear, embarrassed. "You're everything I want."

"So," Chloe pauses, standing up and moving around the counter to tentatively take Beca's hand in her own, "what do we do?"

"Uh… I mean, I think you should probably- you know, shake the girlfriend?" Beca suggests cautiously. "I'm not a cheater, Chloe. And you aren't one, either," she offers softly, her palm trembling in Chloe's.

Chloe smiles sweetly and shakes her head. "Beca Mitchell, I swear you don't listen to half the things I say."

"I do _too_," Beca huffs indignantly.

"Yeah, well if you'd been listening tonight, you'd have heard me tell you that I _ended_ things with Alex before we left. That's what we were texting about. She said she understood, and that she'd been picking up on some vibes from both of us all night, and that, friendship or not, I shouldn't sacrifice a chance to be happy. And I- I want that with you, Beca."

"Okay, all I'm hearing right now is that you're single," Beca blurts out gracelessly.

Chloe rolls her eyes and steps closer, nodding slightly, and whispering, "Yeah. I'm single."

"And you're in love with me?" Beca asks again, small and weak, but, fuck, she needs to hear it again.

"And I'm in love with you," Chloe echoes, smiling softly. "So, I mean, I guess we should talk about where we go from – _oh!"_

Beca cuts her off, tugging the belt loops of Chloe's jeans hard until the redhead falls against her, with no space left to separate them. She gently raises her hands from Chloe's pants to her hair, combing her fingers through it as she slowly drags her eyes from Chloe's throat up to her lips, leaning upward on her toes a little to close her mouth over the redhead's.

It's not fireworks or exploding stars or any of the cliché things that Beca's heard she should feel. It's not- anything. It's not anything, because Beca just can't think, or breathe.

It's seconds after Chloe pulls away before her senses return, and all Beca can think to utter is, "We'll talk tomorrow. Come to bed with me, Chloe."

"Yeah?" Chloe asks, beaming, even as she bites her lower lip. "I mean, you want that?"

"Yeah," Beca confirms, laughing breathlessly. "God, yes, Chlo. I just want you. All I need is you."

"Okay," Chloe breathes happily. "Yeah. Talking can totally wait."

And, alright, so Beca sort of understands why all of Chloe's exes hated her, but she really doesn't care anymore, because, seriously, fuck them all. They're exes for a reason, and now Beca gets to take their place as Chloe's girlfriend – which is where she should have been for years, anyway.

* * *

_Author's Note: _This is my first Bechloe fic, so please be gentle, and let me know what you think!


End file.
